The Hunger Games: Mrs Everdeen's Point of View
by KillTheLights95
Summary: What was happening in District 12 during the 74th Hunger Games? Follow Mrs Everdeen as she watches her daughter being sent to the Hunger Games and the events that unfolded in her absence. A revamp of one of my old stories.


**Why hello there. A few years ago I started this story and may have neglected it a bit...okay, I abandoned it. But here it is again, revamped and ready for action. I've left the original up, so you can see not much has changed, just hopefully better writing, and maybe some more frequent updates...well, maybe.**

**Please enjoy!**

Chapter 1

When I wake, just for a moment, I keep my eyes closed. I imagine the soft warmth of my pillow to be my husband, tucked at my back, and the hair fanning over my cheeks belongs to my daughters, cuddled together and sleeping soundly. A lone bird chirps by the window, and I can distinctly hear Buttercup's paws padding around our feet. For this split second, my world is perfect. My daughters, blissfully content, my husband safe and sound. My family, together as they should be.

My eyes open to a noticeably different picture. The hair draped across my face is my own, my husband is long gone, and the bed that should contain my daughters is empty. I sit up suddenly, worried; Katniss will be out hunting, but Prim? As I clamber out of bed, I hear muffled sniffling from the next room.

Prim is sitting by the fireplace, legs neatly crossed beneath her little body, a steady stream of tears flowing down her porcelain cheeks. She makes no effort to wipe them away, but instead fiddles with a ball of yarn that Buttercup has no doubt stolen from the cupboard. She looks up at me and gives me a watery smile and a mumbled "Morning" by way of greeting.

I do not respond, but simply sit beside her and pull her into my arms, where her tears take off and become full-fledged sobs. I bury my face in her soft blonde hair, so similar to my own, and let her cry, as my own mother did so many times when I was young.

She pulls away and looks at me. "What if I get chosen?" she whispers.

My resolve not to cry is almost broken by her question. "You won't", I say, struggling to keep my voice steady. "You only have one entry. There are thousands of names."

"Then what about Katniss?" Prim asks, sounding even more frightened than she was about herself.

I think of my eldest daughter and her twenty slips of paper in the reaping ball. Prim and I rely on her in so many ways; for food to eat and trade, yes, but she also possesses an unimaginable strength that I strive to feed from. I have been fighting to win back her trust for the past five years, and I do my very best every day to be as strong as she is. But it is a trait she inherited from her father and one which I will never have. To be without Katniss would be to be without hope.

I shake my head. "Katniss won't get chosen. And if she does, you know she'll come back. She would never leave you." I am careful to say you, as I am not sure Katniss would ever come back to me.

"How do you know?" Prim asks, her face pinched in desperation.

"I don't," I say simply. "You've just got to have a little faith, Primrose."

We sit together a few minutes longer before I begin pottering around the kitchen, unearthing whatever I can find to feed the girls for lunch. Even with the fresh goat's cheese from Lady there isn't much, but I know Katniss will bring home something for dinner.

I fill a tub with warm water which has been boiling all morning and let Prim in first. While she's scrubbing herself clean, I rake around for something for us all to wear. I find Katniss' old blouse and skirt which should fit Prim, although I may need to pin in. There's a white dress patterned with red flowers that I brought with me from the apothecary that I can wear. After some more raking, I discover a pale blue dress from my teenage years.

I rub the soft material between my fingers. I remember receiving this for my fifteenth birthday. Instead of buying a cake from the Mellark's bakery, Brodie Mellark himself made one for me. He was a great friend when I was a teenager. We made a troublesome foursome, him, me and Maysilee and Melora.

My eyes sting a bit as memories come flooding back. We drifted apart when Maysilee was reaped. Melora rarely left her house, just to go to school and back. She ended up married to the present mayor. Brodie had always been quiet anyway, and he became more withdrawn when Maysilee died. We never see each other anymore; he tends to trade with my daughters, but we never seem to cross paths. I know he has three sons. The oldest is married now, but the younger two must still be in school. I think one of them ages with Katniss.

I leave the dress on the bed for Katniss to wear just as Prim pads through, wrapped in a scratchy towel. She puts on the blouse and skirt, and I do indeed have to pin them. Even then the blouse keeps coming untucked at the back. I comb her hair back into a low bun and kiss her forehead. She looks beautiful.

"Thanks," she smiles brightly. I don't bother bathing myself, simply put on my dress and pin my hair back from my face. I've just returned to the kitchen when Katniss trails in the door.

Katniss is always beautiful, but it seems especially noticeable to me today. Her hair is pulled into the same old braid, loose strands falling around her face. Her cheeks are flushed pink from the wind, and she wears her father's battered leather jacket. Nevertheless, she retains an effortless beauty that I know all the boys in the market can see – Gale as well.

"Your bath's ready," I tell her gently. She nods and brushed past me, avoiding my gaze. How I wish I could take back those months after Rowan's death. They're just a blur to me, a haze of grief, but for my daughters, it was a time of terror. I will never forgive myself, nor will Katniss ever forgive me.

Katniss doesn't take long, and soon enough she's standing the bedroom, stroking the smooth fabric of the blue dress. Her bottom lip twitches almost suspiciously as she asks, "Are you sure?"

"Of course," I respond gently. "Let's put your hair up too." She pulls on the dress and I set to roughly towel drying her hair. She relaxes slightly as I begin to twist, braid and pin sections of hair, creating what looks like an elaborate hairstyle, when really it's just a few carefully placed braids.

Prim is nevertheless awestruck. "You look beautiful," she gapes at her big sister. She's right; the blue of the dress makes her steely eyes seem brighter, and the hairstyle accentuates her sharp features. She is stunning. As I pad back to the kitchen, I hear laughter and smile sadly. Katniss hardly ever laughs any more, only when she's around Prim.

All too soon, it is time for us to leave. Katniss takes Prim's hand and I grip her other and we head into town. Prim's smile has dimmed now, and she walks solemnly between us. I clasp her hand tighter. The girls sign their names in tandem and I squeeze their hands once more before they vanish into the undulating crowds of teenagers.

Somehow I find myself next to Hazelle Hawthorne. Neither of us speak, simply smile briefly at one another. Hazelle has a tired looking Posy on her hip, Rory and Vick on either side, their little faces sombre rather than their usual cheeky grins. I suddenly feel very alone, and begin to twist my hands together in front of me.

Two o'clock strikes and Page Undersee, the mayor, steps up to read the same speech that's been read since I was a girl. Haymitch Abernathy staggers onto the stage when he's finished, and there is a brief moment of laughter as he plummets to the ground.

The laughter is short-lived as Effie Trinket (effervescent as ever) bubbles away at the microphone. "Ladies first," she simpers, crossing the stage to the large ball.

My fingers are now firmly crossed in front of me and I ignore Hazelle's reassuring smile as I begin to chant in my head; _not Katniss, not Prim, not Katniss, not Prim…_

Effie strolls back to the microphone, smoothing the piece of paper with her glittering claws and my heart is beating so hard and fast I think it might burst from my chest.

"Primrose Everdeen!"


End file.
